


Steal a soul for a second chance

by Sloshed_myGosh



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Family Fluff, Fluff, kid!Dante, perhaps not done well but the best I can do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28818150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sloshed_myGosh/pseuds/Sloshed_myGosh
Summary: Adventures in hell with Dante and Vergil get turned upside down when Vergil comes across his 7 year old brotherPost DMC 5 :D
Relationships: Dante & Nero (Devil May Cry), Dante & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Kyrie/Nero (Devil May Cry), Nero & Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 85





	1. Vergil

His eyes must be deceiving him. A trick from the dark evil energy surrounding him.

“Please!” The child’s voice echoed through the veiny tunnels of the underworld. “I’ll behave myself, promise! I promise!”

His bravery waned, lip trembling and unshed tears finally taking their plunge down round cheeks. 

Vergil crossed his arms. Closed himself off from the nightmare with a scowl. 

The boy released a sob, one that shook Vergil to his bones. “I’m sorry, father! Take me home! I’ll be good to Vergil, just take me back home to mama.” 

_Enough_ of this disgusting nightmare. Vergil turned tail, leaving the all too real child behind him. Dante was here. He could feel him, Vergil had to believe that was not truly him. 

It was a hellish trick.

“Father! Wait, _w-w-WAIT!”_

The panic in the voice so urgent, so chilling and distressed it did not remind him of the Dante he knew as a child. Dante was never in such peril. It reminded Vergil of himself. 

He turned. Big red rimmed blue eyes pinned on him from behind pure white bangs. 

Why would a memory of Dante be calling him father? Begging Vergil to bring him to mother?

“Dante.” Vergil dropped to a knee to talk with the boy, because he did hold Dante’s energy. Vergil could not feel him anywhere else. 

There was no talking though, the boy bolted to him, arms thrown over Vergil’s neck as he squeezed his hardest. For a boy of, Vergil had to guess 7 years of age, he had quite the grip. Stronger than a grown lesser demon. 

“I love you, dad.” He sniffled, Vergil winced at the wetness pressed to his neck. “I- I’m not ready to be a man, I was wrong. I’m sorry, just don’t leave me in this place.”

Vergil cleared his throat, hand hovering just above the boy’s shoulder but not yet touching. “I will not leave you.” 

“Good.” The boy relaxed and it made Vergil release a breath he had not noticed was being held. “This place smells like garbage.” 

“It’s the underworld, Dante.” Vergil said simply, hoping to ease the boy’s confusion even though his own was debilitating his ability to think straight. 

“Not as cool as I thought it would be, Vergil will be disappointed.” The boy, Dante, said while leaning back and taking a look around. This time with clearer eyes now that he was promised safety from someone he trusted. 

Something nasty twisted in Vergil. He had fought with Dante all his life. Not an hour ago was he cutting into his brother, blood coming down his arm just as fast as the wound bound itself closed. 

Looking at this small boy Vergil felt sick. Was this truly his brother? Not a vision or nightmare? What spell came over them and will Vergil be resigned to the same fate? 

“Dante.” Vergil took the boy’s shoulders to get him to focus. It actually worked. Dante looked to Vergil, a simple and pure smile ticking up on the corner of his lips. 

He had never looked at Vergil this way, not in Vergil’s own memories anyways. Vergil cleared his throat again, “what was the last thing you remembered? Before coming here, I mean.” 

Dante did not hesitate his answer though his eyes filled with guilt. “I went into the woods without permission. You found me and said how disappointed you were in my hubris to go off alone.” He recited, Vergil had no doubt he was telling the truth. “Is this my punishment?”

Vergil swallowed hard, faced with the decision to tell Dante the reality of their situation or to play as father until things were fixed.

The cruelty of both choices seemed too much to bear, so Vergil remained vague. “Why did you go alone?”

Dante rolled his eyes and sighed. His little booted feet, the same ones Vergil also had at seven, kicked around in the scaled underworld terrain. “Vergil had no interest going with me, he’d rather look at some book.” 

Vergil pinched the pulsing bridge of his nose. He could _remember._ This happened.

He remembered how shocked he was with father’s anger at this. Dante was one to wander around, he liked to explore. It was common for him to go off around their vast property, he’d gotten himself stuck in a well at one point. 

There was a fear in father’s anger, Vergil can recognize it now looking back, if he was looking back correctly that is. There became a time when Father did not want them to be separated. 

Dante began to whimper again, “I know not to do that now.” He tried and failed to put strength in his voice, “you need me at home, to be there for mom and Vergil when you’re working.” 

Dante frowned at him, Vergil now feeling being at eye level with the boy was a mistake as his bright eyes scrutinized over every detail on Vergil’s face.

“Father,” he gasped, his small hand coming up to Vergil’s cheek. Vergil fought not to jerk away from the touch. Father would sit patiently and wait for them to speak their minds. 

“Father?” Dante said again, his fingers tracing over some faint pattern, “are you well?” 

Vergil assumes he is not a replica of their father, and with Dante’s fresh memory of him he must know Vergil is not right. 

Vergil is no father, not to this boy anyway. 

He swallowed thickly again and was sure to be gentle as he removed Dante’s hand from his face. “We must leave hell.” He said firmly. “At once.” 

As he stood he could feel Dante tense up again. The vulnerability was calling to the monsters all around them. “Calm yourself.” Vergil spoke, the boy had his lips pressed thin in effort not to cry or tremble. “Calm your emotions.” 

“What is wrong with you?” He lashed out. “Y-you’re different. Different clothes, different face but all familiar at the same time!” 

“Quiet.” Vergil clutched the Yamato, demons were closing in and he did not intend for Dante to see any of them. The Yamato sang as she was unsheathed and with two strokes Vergil painted a portal through space. 

“Will we go home?” Dante trustingly took Vergil’s hand despite the reservations. He must feel a threat closing in too. 

“No.” Home is nothing but rubble and ash. The boy should not see it like that, “but we will be safe.” 

It was enough. “Okay.” Together, they stepped through.   
  


In Fortuna, where he had found the Yamato, they step. It was the first place that came to Vergil’s mind for safety. 

Dante was happily and blessedly easily distracted with the new architecture and world before him. Vergil kept holding his hand as he urged ahead for the garage. 

Nero knows children. Vergil knows that. Dante had told him that.

“What is this place?” 

Vergil ducked his head under the mostly open garage, perplexed to see Nero still keeps an open door policy despite what happened to him here.

No one was working in or on the van.

“D-evil ma-yyyy cry.” Dante sounded out the blue sign. Busying himself with reading for once?

“This place is good for you.” Vergil said and felt a disturbance. 

That irritating tick in the back of his mind went off just as the door from the house opened. Nero sensed him just as Vergil had him.

“About time you two came to your senses.” He bursted out, making his silent pause all the more dramatic when he saw the boy.

The standoff was sudden and no one flinches save for Dante’s fist grabbing on Vergil’s coat and shaking.

In unison the still air was broken,

“Do I have an uncle!?”

“Is this my brother?” 

Vergil scowled at Nero, Dante was a child he did not know any better, but his fully grown—

Vergil sighed, ceasing his thoughts. “This is Dante.” He said carefully to Nero, “could he play with the other children you have here while we talk?” 

Nero did not speak right away, his eyes stuck on the boy in the white shirt at Vergil’s side. 

“Is this your shop?” Dante was suddenly on the move, walking around putting his hands on the tools hanging on the walls, “what do you do? I never met any other family before, not on my dad’s side.” 

Vergil got a pointed glare from Nero for that last remark but Vergil will not say the words ‘that is not my son’ for the boy’s ears. “That is Dante.” Vergil growled, his wish for privacy now growing into desperation. 

Vergil took Dante and pointed at Nero, “that is not your uncle. Don’t touch his things.” 

To Vergil’s own horror, Nero started to laugh. Laughing so much he bent over. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Dante scowled at Nero. His confusion quickly turning into offense and anger, Vergil could feel the heat rolling off the child in waves. “Calm down.” He told Dante, but the command fell on deaf ears. 

“What’s so funny?” The boy taunts. 

Nero collects himself to approach and runs a hand through Dante’s hair, “you’re alright, kid.” Then he thumbs over to Vergil, “this your old man?” 

Vergil clutches the Yamato, keeping the urge to summon a sword at bay. 

Dante, who does not know any better, nods. “He’s the best, so if he’s coming to you for help you better take good care of him.” Dante spares a glance up to Vergil, worry taking over his childish features, “he is sick.” 

Vergil tries not to take offense that he is a sickly version of their father, _he does not know any better_. 

Amusement drains from Nero’s face. Pure concern etched into his forehead as he stares at Vergil.

“Both of you wipe those looks off your faces.” Vergil commands but it does little.

“What’s wrong with you?” Nero asks, fuse running shorter and shorter. 

_The problem is_ obviously _Dante,_ he wants to say. Instead he nods in the direction of the child, “he needs a place to play.” 

“Right.” Nero says, tone clipped. He leans down to Dante and extends his hand. “I’ll take care of— this guy, here,” Nero points to Vergil, “so no worries. Mind if we talk for a bit?”

Dante looks to Vergil, his eyes filled with scrutiny once more as he feels something prick his instincts. 

Vergil feels it too and he’s sure Nero is bothered by it as well. They are all off balance. 

Dante takes Vergil’s hand and gives it a secure squeeze, ignoring Nero’s waiting handshake. Again, he is much stronger than he looks. “Will I have to go home alone? Will I need to take care of mom and Vergil?” 

Vergil ignores Nero, not willing to look at his face and keeps his focus on Dante. “You should not rush to grow up so fast. There’s no need for it.” Not yet. “I will get you back to mother somehow.” 

Dante gives a fierce nod, like he has all the faith in the world that Vergil can undo the awful nightmare. “Alright then!” Dante looks to Nero. “Are you gonna take us home? Do we get to go in the van? Like a road trip, right. I’ve seen those in movies. Maybe it’s best Vergil isnt here because people on road trips like to have a good time.”

Nero spares Vergil a small smirk. “What, so Vergil doesn’t like fun?” He asks Dante, his tone actually _gentle_ and light. 

Vergil crosses his arms, abrasive to these musings.

Dante nods, “he will have fun, but it won’t last long. That’s the shame of it.” 

“Maybe you need to give Vergil space sometimes.” Vergil says, the child becoming more annoying by the second. 

Dante scrunches his nose. “That’s such a Vergil thing to say.” He looks at Nero, “Vergil will be in his own little Vergil world forever if you let him, mom says I’m good for him.” 

“Dante, there’s children inside for you to play with. They will be more fun than Vergil.” 

Dante scoffs. “Not likely.” 

Vergil takes Dante’s arm, “regardless, you must go in. Nero and I must speak.” 

Nero scoots Dante along, “easy on the kid.” He says and opens the door to the house. “Hey, you hungry, Dante?”

That elicited a ’whoop’ and a ‘holler’ from the child as they disappeared in the house. Vergil trusted that Nero would get Dante set up with as little confusion as possible. 

It wasn’t long until Vergil’s son appeared once again with no child in sight. 

“Alright, you fucking asshole, that’s really Dante in there!” 

“Yes, I’m aware.” Vergil wondered where Nero had gotten into cursing. Dante cursed, but not like _that_. 

“What _happened_?” Nero asked as exasperated as Vergil felt.

“We were sparing.” 

“That’s what you’re calling it now?” 

Vergil took an evening breath, there really was no time for Nero to be aggressive. “ _Fighting_ , if that word appeases you more, a demon horde interrupted us.” Like many times before. They were drawn to the battle like moth to a flame. 

“We separated,” Vergil continued, “nothing out of the ordinary happened. I killed demons and could smell and hear Dante kill demons until he went quiet. When I investigated…. I found the child.” 

Pristine white shirt and hair, untouched from the underworld like he’d just been zapped there. 

“He assumes I am our father, Sparda.” 

Nero did not have a pleasant expression on his face. He looked disturbed. “And you’re playing along?” 

“I’m going along, yes, but I’ve told him nothing. I’m only letting him assume. Like usual Dante’s instincts are off the mark.” 

Nero sighs, “I don’t know, Dante has pretty good instincts. Is he, you know?”

“What?” 

“Is he what you remember him to be like?” 

“Yes, in fact, I remember the exact day he was taken from. He ran off alone and got in trouble.”

Nero’s brows rose. “The day he was taken from, do you think a swap happened?” 

“And that my child self is dealing with a grown Dante, yes I’ve thought about it. Not much though, I- this child— it’s too much all at once.” 

Nero huffed, “what about the Yamato, she can control time and space.” 

Yamato didn’t do this.” Vergil would know. 

“Can she fix it?” 

“No, not that I’m aware.”

“But we gotta try. This could fuck up everything, right?”

Vergil is still processing that it happened, let alone the consequences. “Do not tell Dante anything. Go along with his assumptions, we cannot change his world too much.” 

“Why can’t I be his Uncle, then? You shot that down pretty fast.” 

“Because Dante and I do not have an uncle.” Vergil sighed and looked down at Yamato in his grasp. “But we did have babysitters from time to time.” 

Nero cringed, “I feel sorry for the poor saps who had to watch the two of you—”

“—You will be burdened with only one of us— take care of Dante. I will find his adult counterpart.” 

Nero moved to object but Vergil was already cutting away to a different reality. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I changed the rating, T seems more appropriate for the content since there is cursing and mentions of violence 
> 
> Let me know what you think

Kyrie fell into a caretaker role so effortlessly she did not even stutter when Nero had whispered the bizarre truth in her ear. 

Her smile did not waver, her eyes kept steady and kind on Dante for his own protection. 

Nero on the other hand could not stop gaping and staring at the boy. Kyrie was by Dante’s side, giving him small tasks to do as they prepared lunch. 

The boys were at school so there was no one for him to play with, but he looked just as content to talk to Kyrie about how his own mother kept her kitchen. 

Nero pretended to busy himself with washing dishes, but his sole focus was on every detail Dante was spewing. Jealous yet content at the same time hearing of their happy home. 

“I am responsible for the butter brush, the most important part, it makes the toast really  _ really _ good.” Kyrie giggled at Dante’s dramatic declaration. “Vergil sprinkles the cinnamon sugar on top, but it wouldn’t stick if I didn’t put the butter on first.” 

“You’ll have to show me just how you do it.” Kyrie is already heading for the fridge to gather a stick of butter and some bread. Dante had been going on about this cinnamon toast… apparently it had been a thing he and Vergil ate for breakfast nearly everyday, and they each had a role in preparing it. 

It sounded like Dante was not trusted with the sugar, smart move on Eva’s part. 

“My mom will melt some butter in a bowl first.” 

“Of course.” Kyrie tightened the apron around her waist and treated this simple task just as seriously as she would with something from the complex things she would normally make. 

Nero slumped against the counter, hands wet and light headed and on the verge of blacking out. Here he is, listening to his kid uncle tell stories of his father and grandmother and what they used to do in their kitchen as a happy family.

There was a tapping on his arm, Nero turned to blue eyes pinned on him. “You want to shake the cinnamon sugar?” 

“Uh, sure kid.” Nero grabbed the sugar and cinnamon and started mixing them together in a bowl, Dante looked at it forlornly. “What’s wrong, not enough sugar?” 

His nose scrunched and he gave a breezy laugh, one the Nero had seen on a man five times this kid’s age. “It’ll do.” He said rather unimpressed.

Nero shook his head, “why don’t you tell me what’s wrong.” He retorted quite childishly himself. 

“It’s not anything.” Dante said with more anger than Nero thought was warranted. 

Fine, he’ll drop it. 

“Toast and melted butter,” Kyrie announced as she served the foundation of their snack. 

With a baster brush in hand, Dante did what he was born to do and buttered that toast. The finesse he had while doing such a mundane thing was honestly impressive and Nero found himself entertained just by watching.

Kyrie gasped her delight as Dante expertly twirled the brushed around and dashed the toast with effective strokes, coating the surfaces with an even layer of butter. 

Nero had to laugh when it was all said and done. 

“Wonderful!” Kyrie cheered and Dante held his chin up, proud of himself and the work he’d done. 

He was warm with Kyrie, but as soon as Nero sprinkled the cinnamon sugar over the toast his smile had dropped. 

“What?” Nero shrugged. 

“It’s nothing.” The kid said, smile returning as he turned to Kyrie. “My dad would always burn the toast, but he likes it that way.” 

Kyrie tapped her fingers to her chin in thought, “you know, I could make some burnt toast for him. I’m sure he’ll be hungry when he gets back.” 

The happiness that flooded this kid was enough to fill the whole house with joy. 

But Nero huffed and went back to the sink to finish the dishes. It wasn’t a good thing Dante was here and Nero certainly shouldn’t be hearing all of this, these memories from a time long forgotten. “Does Vergil like burnt toast?” He asked, silencing the chatter between Dante and Kyrie.

It took a moment before the answer, “yeah… he does.” 

It wasn’t gonna be long before his legs failed him, Nero could feel Kyrie’s eyes on him as he leaned heavily on the counter.  _ He _ liked burnt toast too. Nero knew that was fucked up, should’ve known he inherited that. 

Nero’s head jerked as he felt a surge of demonic energy hit his back. Spectral wings glittered into existence on instinct as he turned.

“What is this doing here!” Dante pointed at the book on the table. The distinct golden ‘V’ shining against the sunlight streaming through the window. 

Nero cursed under his breath and moved to take the book out of sight but Dante was closer and quicker.

“Why do you have this?” Dante only looked at Nero, his glare piercing and filled with panic. “W-where did my dad go, where is Vergil, and who the  _ hell _ are you!”

All very hard questions to answer… Nero sighed, his wings retreating within him as he pitied the terrified kid, he wished he could do more for him… 

It was not like Dante to miss family. Not outwardly anyway… in his own way, he sent Nero the Devil May Cry sign, but other than that he never reached out. 

Kyrie knelt beside him, careful not to put her hand on his shoulder like she would with one of their boys at the orphanage. “You’d like some answers.” She stated, eyes flicking toward Nero. 

Nero cleared his throat. “You’ve probably sensed this already, but I’m—“

“A demon.” Dante said with a bored tone that irrationally angered Nero, “you look like me, my family.” Dante looked down at the William Blake book in his hand. “I feel like I know you but your energy is  _ wrong _ . So wrong it makes me sick.” 

Something in Nero’s chest broke down at that. His own family couldn’t stand his existence, his father only coming back from hell because he needed a babysitter, nothing more. Dante would’ve been more than fine with Kyrie, why couldn’t Nero have gone with? He could’ve helped. 

“I’m not meant to exist.” He said and spotted the worry in Kyrie immediately. If he was revealing too much, so be it. Keeping him in the dark may do more damage then giving him some answers. “Not to you, anyway.” 

Dante eased up a bit, sensing that he was finally getting some truths. “My dad and I, we were in the underworld before coming here, did he make a mistake with the portal?” 

“No, he went exactly where he meant to go.” 

Dante frowned. “My dad isn’t in his right mind. He would barely talk to me and he is cold… not himself.” 

Nero had to smile. Dante and Vergil may love to keep things left unsaid, but Nero was tired of that bullshit. “You’re on the right track, kid.”

But that wasn’t very comforting. Dante’s knuckles flashed white clutching onto Vergil’s book. “I want to get Vergil and go home.” 

“We’re working on that, I promise.” 

Dante was putting on a brave face, but nothing could hide how his eyes shone with unshed tears. “Where is my mom?” 

“Safe at home. Waiting for you.” Kyrie gently supplied when Nero was silent for too long. 

Dante nodded, discreetly hiding the tremble in his lip with a smirk. “We better not make her wait long. I need to be back before dinner.” 

——

The clouds were white and pillowy, not a dark one in sight against the bright blue sky. 

Dante watched quietly, the house that met the horizon line in the distance. A little Vergil outside reading. Back when all he cared about was poetry and playing. There was no need for for him to have power in this world. 

The day dragged on and the boy remained alone. Even though he was comfortable in the quiet, the only sound being the birds chirping, Dante noticed him pausing every few pages to look around. 

This Vergil wasn’t used to being alone for so long. 

Not a rain cloud in sight but water trickled from Dante’s cheeks. 

If he could take it all back, he would. 

It was not Dante who damned Vergil to hell, he did that himself, but Dante felt the guilt all the same. Felt the loss. 

Dante wondered where he was. Soon he should be coming out to pester Vergil with toy swords and costumes begging Vergil to be the adversary.

He took that role a little too literally as they got older. Dante remembered being 17, he was happy as hell to see Vergil alive. 

That’s the benefit he’ll give Vergil for now. He had the element of surprise, that’s why he had the upper hand. Dante got his teeth kicked in, helpless from what felt like betrayal.

‘Pathetic’ Vergil had said, the tone of his voice still very clear in Dante’s mind. He threw back the amulet and claimed he could take it back again whenever he wanted.

Dante shook his head, the bad memory souring the beautiful day. 

Dante straightened his back, alert. Vergil, the small boy down the hill was staring up at him. 

There wasn’t any way he could notice him from that far, could he? 

Dante tricked away, out of sight. He wasn’t about to speak to him, figment of imagination or not, he couldn’t get himself to do it. 

The tears left on his cheeks had gone cold seeing Vergil appear before him. The Vergil that had mutated beyond recognition and back again.

“Come with me.” He said. 

“What?” 

“You’ve warped through time, I need to bring you back.” 

Dante smiled, though he was holding out, waiting for his mother to come out just so he could see her breathing one last time, but Vergil was right. He didn’t belong here and seeing her would be too much. 

Dante turned to the house for the last time. “Nice to see it all intact, huh?”

He couldn’t see Vergil, but his hum of agreement spoke volumes. “Any sign of father?” 

“No, haven't seen mom either. Just you,” Dante pointed to the little boy still staring at the tree line Dante was once in. 

Vergil stayed still, his face unreadable as stone. “We need to return yourself.”

Dante snorted at that, “what?” 

“Your child self.” Vergil stared intently at Dante, it was unnerving because it wasn’t anything familiar nor was it anything Dante could pinpoint an emotion on. Was he sad? Annoyed? Probably annoyed but it wasn’t his ‘annoyed’ face… 

And then Vergil said it. 

“You’ve been crying.” 

Dante wore a smile that was born out of discomfort. “Yeah,” he casually cleared off his cheeks from what lingered there. 

“Seeing that house?” Vergil asked as if Dante could finish his whole question. 

“I guess, I dunno. A lot of memories had been coming up all at once. I’m—“  _ feeling a lot _ . “It was nice to see you from when I had good memories of you and not shitty ones.” 

Vergil stared down at the boy retreating to his book while staring at the house like he was expecting someone to be there. “Yes, nevertheless, we must continue to make new memories now, good or bad. We must return your eight year old self and let things happen as they did.” 

“Why not stay and protect mom?” Dante mused before he could stop himself. “If dad died so be it, he was old and drained of power. Mom was murdered.” 

Vergil stayed quiet for a long time. They only watched their old house to pass the time before he spoke up. “Would you risk changing everything?” 

“To protect her, maybe.” 

Vergil shook his head. “I have a son. I can’t gamble if a different reality we all have a better life or if he won’t exist entirely. Things are meant to be kept as they were.” 

Dante knew he was right, but it felt wrong just to leave.

“Were you waiting for them?”

“Who?” Dante looked at Vergil. 

“The demons.” 

Dante shrugged, knowing he was prepared to crush any demon that made its way toward their home. “Maybe.” 

A lone tear slid down the curve of Vergil’s cheek. “I wished for some hero to help me.” He said quietly before he tightened his hand on Yamato. “We must return the poor boy home, it’s going to happen soon.” 

Dante caught his meaning, panic rose in his throat as he watched the defenseless boy that Vergil was wander the property with his book, probably to find a new reading spot. “Today is the day?” 

Vergil nodded, no trace of his sorrow left on his face. “Make haste, Dante.” The Yamato split a hole in reality and Dante followed. Betrayal weighing his heart down into the dirt. He was damning his own mother to hell, leaving her for the slaughter. 

**Author's Note:**

> Nero is the next pov


End file.
